


Chapter 1, The Soldier

by Naulafein_Hasrov



Category: Adventure - Fandom, D&D - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Fantasy - Fandom, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Adventure, D&D, Dungeons and Dragons, Fantasy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-09 11:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20994392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naulafein_Hasrov/pseuds/Naulafein_Hasrov
Summary: A group of Templars serving the Empire of Stathan have been charged with tracking the whereabouts of the Slave Lord Nikolai Astrachi. With the aide of an escaped slave Dog and a recent attack upon trade ships serving Lord Arcfang the crew is hot on Nikolai's tail. Join Zirul, Dog, Petyr and others as they begin the first of many fantastical adventures in the world of Aleatoire inspired by real Dungeons and Dragons Campaigns.





	1. Chapter 1

Zirul bursts through the tight doorway and into the metal-walled hall. Something shatters behind him. Pushing his auburn hair out of his eyes, he looks back towards the room from which he came to see the tables shifting across the floor, scattering playing cards, dice and dishware around the poorly-lit space. Dog doesn’t look to be faring much better, he notices, as the ape falls into the doorframe. Zirul reaches out for his friend’s long, hairy arm and pulls him to his feet with a smirk.

“Grew up on the seas, ya did?” he says as he turns, stumbling as the ship rocks back and forth.

“Aye, but my family’s ship didn’t have this under deck. We Sim don’t much like these cramped passageways.”

Zirul branches his arms between the narrow walls to brace himself and ascends the staircase. Dog quickly mimics his method and scrambles up behind him. The faint shouting grows louder and the waves more distinct. The violent surf tosses men about as they cast out hooks and nets.   
Black smoke fills the air. Zirul begins to cough and removes his glove to cover his mouth, Dog just behind him. Dog scampers up onto the wall behind them, perching for a short moment before leaping further up, grabbing the railing to the bridge. He balances himself on the rail, looking first through the window to Captain Cavill, then outwards at the rafts making their way towards the ropes and nets being thrown to them.  
Water sprays everywhere as waves thrust the survivors around in the wreckage. Flames engulf what’s left of the Arcfang ship, creating a chilling silhouette. The door opens; Dog looks again to the captain as he steps out to study the scene, his silvered hair flowing in the whipping wind.

“Its Nikolai.”

The Captain stays silent for a moment watching his men as they begin to pull the wounded on deck. His eyes drift to a mast that slowly slips beneath the waters, the flag showing a silver ring encasing a fang.

“We cannot be certain it was Nikolai just yet, hopefully the survivors can tell us more.”

Dog dismounts from the railing, heavy on his feet. He turns to the Captain, his face stern with a rage in his eyes to match the roaring flames currently engulfing the Arcfang ship behind him.

“Petyr he needs to be taken down, he…” 

“Our orders are to aid trade ships into the bay, not to start a war. Admiral Misk would never sacrifice the number of ships it would take to bring Nikolai to ruin.”

“Fuck Misk, we don’t need an army, his barge sits alone most nights. We can take him…” the Captain grits his teeth before cutting Dog off once more.

“You are not the Navy. You are not a Templar. You are here to predict where he will strike next, and so far we are one step behind. I understand your frustration, I do, yet of two dozen ships hitting the coasts we have yet to find one.”

Dog huffs, looking down momentarily and then back out at the Arcfang ship. The sky is replaced with thick black smoke and the water with dancing red-orange-yellow reflections of the ever-taller flames.

“I’m sorry Dog, I know this is hard for you.”

Dog huffs once more before hopping over the railing and down to the deck where Zirul stands, patting cold sailors down with an already-drenched towel. Shaken men cough up water and blood on the deck. Han moves about the mess with his kit, dabbing the blood, stiching and wrapping what wounds he can. Men with severe wounds or sufficiently embedded shrapnel are taken below deck to Doctor Generae. Dog stands still, silently watching until a grizzled voice speaks behind him.

“They took all they could carry then blew us to hell.”

He turns to a man with half his beard burned off and scorch marks on his cheek, his lip split open along with a piece of wood sticking out of his chin.

“Who?”

“Don’t know, but they had black armor and a black bird on their sails.”

Dog reaches into his bag and pulls out a torn piece of cloth with a raven’s head before a moon, the eye of the raven missing and the light of the moon breaching the hole “Like this?”

“Aye.”

Dog looks up to the Captain watching over the railing and thrusts his arm upwards showing the cloth with a huff, “If they got their share of slaves they’ll be at the barge soon.”

The Captain looks about the deck then down to the beaten man. “Could you recognize the ships or the men that attacked you?”

“Aye.”

“Did you see which way they went?”

“South, south-east.”

The Captain looks over to Zirul and nods before turning to the bridge “Smitty, Left 15”

Zirul stands and walks down the steps shouting as he goes “Rafe, Lewin, get your asses in gear and start throwing, we need to get to Solt before sundown.”

…..

The sun drifts slowly through the sky as the engine chugs on, the motions of the crew becoming just as machine as the metal they stand on as it glides over the waters. The sound of the shovels hitting the coal followed by grunts and growth of flame is like the steady beat of a war drum.  
Ives leans against his shovel, soaked head to toe in sweat and looks over to Rafe leaning against the wall, dumping water onto his face drinking what he can, no care for what is spilled. Ives glances to Lewin grunting and panting as the shovel clings in the coal and the woosh of it being thrown off into the flames.

Lewin pauses, he mouths something but so sound comes out as he pants more, spit dripping from his tongue that hangs out of his mouth like a hound.

“Guys come on. You can’t both break at the same time.” He finally pants out.

Rafe stamps his shovel on the floor twice and throws the waterskin to Ives then climbs back over the pile while Ives stumbles around to the door taking a big swig before spitting it out on his boots “Gross, it’s just as hot my sweat”

Rafe chuckles “What’d you expect, it’s a hundred degrees.”

Ives leans his shovel on the wall and makes his way out the door as it slides and clatters to the floor he shouts walking down the hallway. “To hell with this, I won’t stand in this dragon’s breath no more, we might as well be in the furnace with the damned coal!”

Lewin curls his mouth down in an exaggerated frown at Rafe “Where do you think he’s going?”

Ives continues stomping down the hall whimpering to himself “Oh my Saints, it’s so hot!” he pulls open the buttons of his shirt and removes his belt with a clank to the floor followed by thuds as he hops on one foot removing his left boot then his right.

“Why couldn’t I be stationed at The Bite?” He ducks as he reaches the deck doorway and sighs heavily, glancing over at the sun, then makes his way over to the taffrail taking in the cool air gusting along the ship over the blue waters.

Dog sits on a crate with Zirul leaned against, the survivors of the Raven attack circling around, the grizzled man recounting the details of the attack as best he can.

“We saw them at a distance, at first we thought they were headed towards Northwind. As they drew near, Haver saw the sigil from the nest. We couldn’t turn around; they’d catch us, so the Captain jibbed westward.”

He pauses, another one of the men speaks up.

“There was another ship, one of yours.”

Zirul and Han look to one another, their brows furrowed in thought. Dog pokes at the grizzled man.

“Oh yes, sorry.” 

He shudders “A Templar ship, three times the size of this one, three times the artillery. At first Haver thought we were saved, he started waving to them, hailing them down. We got excited and started waving too, he shouted something down to us, but…”

The other sailors bow their heads “But by the time we looked up his brains were blowing out his head and he fell to the deck. That’s when we saw them on your ship: big, gray brutes.”

Dog nods “Zshlat Zshelko.”

Zirul tilts his head “What?”

“That’s what they call it. Iron Death in their tongue, ogres. It is an early model steam engine, storm battleship, hundred guns or so.”

The grizzled man stares off into the waters, Zirul gets up and pulls a cotton blanket from his bag and wraps it around the trembling man. He looks about the vessel.

“I’ve been aboard a ship attacked before, even sunk, I’ve had a fight or two with the goblins and even those bastard Ravens before, but I have never seen such power unloaded with a single pass.”

Ives looks up and over to Dog “Our ships aren’t made of iron, they’re steel.”

Dog shakes his head and brushes his hand on his forearm twice then once at Ives totally confused by the signal before Dog clarifies “I don’t think they really care but your early models were ironclad, that ship has been in the hands of the ogres for about fifteen years.”

From behind by the steps the Captain speaks out “If they’ve had it for so long, why are we just learning of this?”

He steps over and looks Ives up and down, in nothing but his shifts, he holds up his boots, gloves stuffed in one and shirt and pants in the other and throws them to his feet. “Put your clothes back on.”

“But Captain, it’s so hot, and me and the other fire…” The Captain puts his hand up silencing the petty officer.

“Put your gear on now, we don’t know how soon we’ll see the Ravens and I will not have any of you walking around without armor or proper uniform.”

Ives bends over to pick his clothing up out of the boots and sits to put everything back on. Dog shifts on the crate to face the Captain proper. “From what I gathered on the barge, no one survives Iron Death. Nikolai doesn’t even get the slaves much because the ogres usually eat everyone before they get back.”

There is a chorus of groans and grimaces from the men gathered around, all contemplating the idea of an ogre tearing their flesh off like they would sink their teeth in a chicken wing. Ives spits overboard and turns with a smile while buckling his belt. “Still not the worst thing on these waters.”

The tradesmen and other petty officers look on with interest and worry, Dog and Zirul glance over to the Captain who leans with a smile, just as excited to hear a tale of wonders from Ives who begins speaking, his hands waving about with excitement.

“I’ve heard of these fish people right? Blue folks with gills and shark tails, not mermaids but hunters of the coasts. And there’s these other green sea monster people that attack trade ships in the night, they chew through the wooden hulls, flood the ships, and ride the shark people into battle, hunting us like we hunt deer...or I guess fishing for us.” 

He tilts his head, questioning his own last sentence as he looks over to the Captain who holds his chin in his palm, elbow held up by a crossed arm, he nods his head and grunts mockingly.

Dog hops off the crate and pats the shaking sailors on the back “Stop scaring the fresh meat, the Hoojin are in the southern isles by The Fall. We’re safe up here, except for slavers, pirates, giant squids, and even bigger sharks,” he says with a wicked smile to Ives who shares the same grin as Dog turns to face the younger men.

“All manner of sea monsters in the open waters outside the reefs,” Ives nods to Dog at his side then over to the Captain.

“What about you Cap, you ever fight a sea monster?”

The Captain stretches his arm and stands against the crate that Dog left “I’ve been patrolling these coasts for years, only ever seen goblins and slavers.”

He taps on the crate then turns and walks away to the steps up to the bridge

“You’ll likely be fighting both in the coming months, maybe even tonight, so keep your gear on.”

…..

Officer Han Cassik and Officer Sam ‘Smitty’ Mitt sit up in the bridge at the table shaking cups of dice then slamming them down, their eyes locked as they each tilt the cup inward to look at what they’ve rolled, Smitty smiles “Four threes.” his eyes still locked with Han’s who smiles back “You know why I always beat you at this?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re really dumb and bad at counting.” Smitty scoffs at the accusation

“Five threes.” Smitty shakes his head at Han “No way, flip it.”

Han turns the cup up to reveal one three as well as a four, two ones, and two fives, Smitty turns his cup up displaying three threes, a two and a six. Han’s jaw drops and Smitty’s smile extends from ear to ear “You know why you just lost?”

“Why?”

“You think I can’t play the odds, but I can play you.” They both laugh and collect the dice, Smitty leans back.

“It’s so hot, I can’t even breathe.”

Han nods; Smitty begins to fiddle with his belt lifting his back up as he undoes the loops “Think Captain will be mad if I take my armor off just for a bit?”

From behind Captain Cavill’s voice rings out as he climbs up the stairs “Yes I will.”

“Boggard!” He mutters under his breath.

Han chuckles and stands to look out the window onto the deck, as the Captain reaches the top and steps beside Han, Smitty finishes looping his belt and goes down to the other men. The Captain looks over to Han “How bad were their injuries, the men brought below?”

“I’ve seen worse, I think it’s mostly shock that has them shaken.” The Captain nods then sits at the table.

“Han, you don’t need to stand at attention the whole time I’m here, you can sit and relax, the night will be long.”

Han clicks his tongue “Actually, I’m gonna get some air.” and he steps out onto the balcony leaving the Captain to sit alone “Han, you can’t stay angry at me forever.”

Han looks over his shoulder, “It’s not you I’m angry at.”

…..

Smitty walks over to the group and tosses an apple to Ives, he takes out his own and starts to carve into it, glancing at the others. “Z, Dog, how you guys been?”

Ives crunches first big bite into his, removing a third of the apple, saliva dripping onto his leather armor. “Oh they’re fine chilling out up here, I’ve been in the damned boiler room for an hour”

The sailors smile, looking around the deck. Han shouts from above, “Speaking of which, maybe you should relieve Rafe or Lew.”

“Braggart!” Ives bites into the apple, removing another third of it as he stomps down below, glaring at Smitty who gives him another toothy grin.

The man wrapped in Zirul’s blanket points at Dog. “I don’t mean to offend sir, but what are you exactly?”

Dog huffs and hops back onto the crate, crouching as he picks at the wood “It’s easiest to just call me a Sim, there are various species of my kind but we don’t have names. Just intelligent ape men from clans just as old as your kingdoms; the clans have names but they can only be said in our own tongue.”

He points again. “Why do they call you Dog?”

Dog smiles and clicks his canines with a huff and looks to the Zirul expectantly.

“When I was a boy I had a dog, a good dog, loyal and strong, always by my side. He’d keep me safe when I’d wander where I shouldn’t. He’d pounce onto fish when I’d reel ‘em in, but he died when I joined the navy.”

Zirul pauses for a moment. “I miss him. Even though he never listened to my orders, he was still good. When I met Dog; the Captain, Han, and I were a little drunk, got into a bad fight with some guys, maybe eleven on three?”

He looks over to Dog giving a smirk of confirmation on his estimate. “They kicked the shit out of us until he showed up, pounced on a guy from a rooftop and flung him into the wall like my dog would toss around the fish.”

He shrugs with a smile over to Dog “I guess Dog reminds me of my best friend.”

There is a collective nod and silence but all the eyes slowly turn to Smitty laughing. “What the fuck? Are you two lovers in the night? Z, do you like em big and hairy?”

A few of the men chuckle, Zirul rolls his eyes and laughs as well “And angry too.”

Mitt stretches and yawns “I thought you called him dog ‘cause you hated him, like he’s only pet”

Dog nods “I did too, when I was a Raven slave they called me Dog, I don’t even look like a dog.”

Zirul’s eyebrows rise in surprise his mouth the same “What? Your slave name was Dog? I’m sorry man, is that why you went with it when I thanked you?”

Dog nods “You knew my name before I ever said it.”

Smitty sneers again “Wait so he fought off those guys and you said ‘thanks dog’ and it turned out to be his name?”

They both nod.

“What made you think to call him Dog?”

Zirul tosses his arms up gesturing the obviousness of the question “I just explained.”

“He wasn’t wrong to call me such, I guess I just seem like a Dog”

From above the Captain speaks down beside Han “Your name is a great compliment. I too had one growing up, a great big wolfhound. Great instinct he had, called him Bear, near the size of one too. Better hunter than my father and I combined, listened real good too.” he finishes looking respectfully at Dog.

The young man points to Dog again. “How did you escape?”

Dog’s expression turns from a smile to sadness in an instant as he avoids looking at the Captain and the others, out off the ship but he can see the eyes still watching him so he looks down to the deck “I didn’t, not really. There was a raid near Underhaven… Afterwards they went to the brothels. The whip man chained me outside, they got too drunk and took some of the ladies back aboard the ship and forgot me there.”

“That’s lucky,” Smitty mutters.

“To you maybe. I wish I had fought, earned my freedom, and saved others on the ship.”

The Captain speaks up again “You earned your freedom at birth. Nikolai will be taken down soon enough.”

Dog growls, “What about the Valat, the Xygantians, the Buruk? Will the Templars fight to end those empires built on slaves or just what’s easiest?”

The Captain stands silently, Han stepping back uncomfortable with the unexpected hostility.

Dog slams his knuckles on the crate. “I will fight to free every slave I can. But would you, with all your armies?”

The Captain sighs, “You know I don’t have that power, don’t put this on me.”

Dog huffs, leaps off the crate and onto the railing facing the Captain with a glare. Then leaps up again over the bridge and climbs up to the nest.  
…..

Hours pass as the sun sets, Dog and Shivax sit in the nest looking over the blue and blood-orange horizon. Dog sits with pursed lips examining the Aurock, he’d never seen one up close before. Shivax picks and cleans his feathers; the few that fall, he peels off the rachis and trims them, then glues them to his arrows as fletching, followed by binding and coating them in a resin. Dog sits silently watching him repeat the process over and over again.

“Why do you do that?”

Shivax looks up then back at his work. “Use my own feathers?”

“Yes, I’ve never seen that before.”

Shivax looks at the sun with a smirk. “How many Aurocks do you know besides me?”

Dog turns to the horizon as well. “I guess none.”

Shivax beak curves slightly in a smile. “It only makes sense for me to use my own, I don’t know about others but my brother and I always plucked our own.”

“Does he serve the Templars as well?”

Shivax looks back down at his work and closes the lid of the resin and glue solvent, “He is dead.”

Dog purses his lips and looks away again, he sits quietly picking at the red and black hair on his arms, “I’m sorry I…”

Shivax turns to Dog, “It is fine, I do not need your apologies.”

Dog keeps his eyes on his arm, tilting his head further down to avoid the yellow eyes of Shivax locked onto him. Something about this gaze makes him nervous, very wide and focused like a hawk eyeing prey on a hunt with intense amber eyes like a cat. Shivax cocks his head back and forth analyzing Dog’s nervousness; he cranes his neck up looking down, a smirk of excitement, pride for making this hulking ape-man feel so small.   
Shivax spots something in the corner of his eye to the south, he slowly turns his head away keeping his eyes on Dog. Over the trees of the peninsula, smoke; he grabs the scope, Dog now looking back up to the sound of the clicks as it extends.

Shivax taps Dog on the shoulder and hands over the telescope “Do you see that, the smoke stack, the barge.”

Dog pulls the scope to his eye and scans through the tips of the trees following Shivax’s long curved nail to Nikolai’s Barge. He grits his teeth landing the scope on the Raven ship docked to it and slaves marched across the metal bridges then down to the steel deck beneath. Shivax hops over the railing and glides down into the bridge and moments later Smitty runs out and down below shouting to the firemen. Dog lays with his ear down, listening to what he can, the Captain is calling to cut the engines. No sound and no smoke, hopefully it isn’t too late to be spotted.  
The ship shuts down and the last of the smoke puffs out as it steadily nears the edge of the peninsula, now shielded by the jungle. Shivax flies back up to pack his gear, throwing his belongings haphazardly into his bag, the partially dried arrows with the others in his quiver. As his talon wraps around the banister before gliding down again he looks at Dog. “You coming?”

Dog glances down, soldiers lowering the rowboats and climbing down the net ladder, Dog looks up to Shivax confused. “The Captain wants to attack?”

“No, we’re scouting.” He spreads his wings and leaps down, gliding gracefully in wide circles before landing in one of the two boats. Dog shrugs and leaps down over the bridge and slamming onto the deck beside Han and Zirul with a heavy bang. Zirul looks to Dog with raised eyebrows “Could you maybe be a little less slammy right now?”

“They didn’t hear that. What’s the plan?”

Han steps forward. “Scouting party, we land two on the beach and press through the jungle for a closer look, we do not engage.”

Zirul gestures over the men climbing down. “Eisik, Wilhelm, and the two Jons are with me. Wormont, Ozmandius, Shivax, and the two Roberts with Han.”

Dog looks past Zirul, watching Wilhelm climb over. “Guess you need number six, huh.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Zirul follows Wil down, the men slowly setting down in the shaky boat. The waters are still but their moving bodies stirs the boat. Dog watches until Z is halfway, then hops over and swoops down the net, rapidly passing the two men then perches in the front of the boat, mirroring Shivax in the other.  
The boats detach, each of the men grabbing a paddle, gently pushing the waters to the shore. Shivax flaps his wings and flies above, leaving Han’s team to bring up the rear. Dog huffs and with a snarl he looks over to the equally frustrated Zirul. “He’s kind of a dick.”

Zirul and the other men on the boat nod as they watch Shivax fly ahead and land on the beach. Eisik sighs, “I wish I could fly.”

Will grunts and looks over. “If you could, would you be a dick a too?”

“No, I just wish I could be in the skies.”

“Maybe you could sit up in his nest all day and he can come down and clean the deck, is that close enough to the sky?”

Eisik looks back to the ship “Never been up there,” he looks over to Dog, “What’s it like?”

Dog sighs and looks back to Shivax

“Well, my family didn’t have a set lookout, we could all climb up on the masts. Sometimes my brothers and I, we would sit on each one and throw rocks at each other; it’s harder than you’d think. We could have one foot and one hand on the poles, first to fall loses... I preferred monkey in the middle though, I could jump higher so if I was ever on the main mast, I would catch the ball right away.”

He smiles and looks back, gestures his head to the beach where Shivax crouches. “No one in my family was like that; I think he sits up there to look down on all of you. I’m surprised he’s a Templar.”

Zirul shakes his head. “He’s not, he’s an aide, just like you.”

Dog huffs, “Why? What do you need him for?”

Zirul shrugs, “We don’t know, he was assigned directly by the Admiral.”

Dog growls and huffs looking back at Shivax, then huffs again and snarls like his namesake, working himself up over feeling so nervous earlier in the lookout. He grips the oar as tight as he can, the wood beginning to warp and splinter as he grits his teeth.

Dog’s eyes glaze over, he leans left hanging his mouth, zoning out as the water washing up on the sandy shore, the breeze softly blowing in the trees. His eyes drift about seeing seagulls and a wooden cart rolling on the planks of a dock, a whistle and snap of a whip on his back.   
Dog turns around, a snarling beast with a twisted, demonic face of a hound looking down at him. He growls, baring his fangs and raises the whip with a clawed, metallic arm cracks the whip once more. Dog’s face stings, his nose split and bleeding profusely as the snarling Varkuul pulls the whip away again, raising the metal arm. He whistles again. “Come here Dog,” and snaps his fingers, pointing to his feet, Dog shuffles and bows to his master’s feet.

“Clean my feet, get in between the toes Dog.”

Dog leans over and tears a piece of cloth off his tunic, the whip cracks again and Dog is knocked to the ground, his head aching, blood gushing from the top. “Lick em clean.”

Zirul watches as Dog continues to huff and snarl.. He leans forward and puts his hand on his shoulder but Dog whips his head around and snaps his teeth at Zirul’s hand, who just barely pulls his hand back before losing it. Dog slowly releases the grit of his teeth as he looks to his friend, Zirul not shaken, but worried.   
Caring eyes look upon him, he reaches back to Dog and puts his hand on the same shoulder and they bow their heads together with a whisper, “What’s got your mind?”

“Shivax, he reminds me of the masters.”

The heads still touching at the fore, Zirul is able to get Dog to look into his eyes “I don’t trust him either.”

Dog pulls his head away. “He’d watch us all die.”

Zirul nods, brushes his auburn hair forward and pulls a few strands off the top; clinging to his glove is a mixture of his own and Dog’s hair looking all the same. He looks at the strands confused, Dog reaches over and pulls the longest hair. “Mine.”  
The two boats slide onto thick sand beneath the waters and the men hop out, they grab the rungs on the sides and pull them to dry land. Then pull out the seats and fasten them to the center beam, and fold the sides in, and finally fasten the rope around after closing the boats up.  
Eisik immediately goes to grab hold of the rung while Wormont and Wilhelm rock paper scissors for who carries it with him. With a swear and kick of sand, Will loses and picks up the back end. Ozzy shakes his head at Robert Galo, and Robert Sea; the two look at one another and shrug before lifting their folded boat.  
Shivax flaps his wings and glides between the dense forestry. Below, the Jons hack their way through vines and undergrowth. The floor is muddy and air heavy, every breath slow and deep, time seems to slow as the sky darkens and stars light the night as the teams hike through the last of the wet brush to the opposite beach. Slumping against a ridge the only sound in the wood is the chirp of crickets and labored breathing of the armored men and the gulps as they chug what they can from the water skins.

Han hands off a bullseye lantern to Shivax who flies up in search of a tall tree top with a view of the Templars uncasing and setting up the heavy scope below. The pegs shift about in the soft sand as the sites are adjusted, Han leans forward peering through.   
There are large fishing crates stacked about the back deck along the rail guard and stern wheel which is set rather low, there is an open space in the center of all the crates that guards circle and a balcony that wraps around looking over the entire main deck covered in garbage scraps, rope, bags, nets, and boxes of crab claws poking through wooden cages. Large fishermen lift the crab boxes and load them into big crates then carry them down from the boiler deck to the port side while others shovel muck overboard or put supplies in blue bins.  
Towards the front he sees a wheel crane and more fishing crates, nets, supplies, and barrels. Fish flap about the deck wriggling out of the net recently dropped. One by one they’re slapped onto a steel table; heads chopped, deboned, and filleted then thrown into black bins beside the table, the heads and guts shoved off into large knapsacks spilling onto the floors around the burley men.

“Huh, windows go down three levels below main deck but the wheel is much lower.”

Han waves Dog over while keeping his eye on the guards circling the decks “How many floors are there?”

“Eight, hurricane, boiler, main then five sub levels, bottom two are brig.”

Han adjusts the zoom focusing on the guards walking the boiler, his fingers extend as he counts the seconds of their circle as they walk the entire deck as well as the other guard team that halves time between. He looks down to the team walking the aft and fish crates, the two teams walking the main deck, and the route of the team by the stage “Why are they working so hard now, the sun has set shouldn’t they be drinking or something?”

Zirul looks to Dog expectantly; Han has yet to pull his eye away from the scope.

“Nikolai passes as a fishing barge when he docks in towns, he’s likely to dock soon, usually pays off the dock guards or gives them gifts, crab and such, probably tonight or morning, contacts spread word of new slaves he intends to sell.”

Zirul scratches his beard “hmmm, we can’t let him dock, we aren’t the law anymore in Solt.”

“He may sell the slaves too, he moved us in fish crates.”

Zirul sighs heavily scratching and stroking his beard more “Troll shit.” He grumbles with frustration.

He taps his forehead with his finger as if commanding his mind to think better “We may lose the slaves if we don’t act tonight and if he docks he can sit as long as he pleases.”

Han waves his hand down to settle the two “We can’t act while the Raven ship is still there but it looks like they’re packing up.”

Han turns and scans the tree tops for Shivax, the haunting yellow eyes standing out like a stalking owl, he signs Shivax the number of decks, number of guards, length of their routes and times between, and the number of fishermen working.  
Shivax turns to look to the ship and lights the lantern forming a bullseye pointed to the bridge, moments pass as he waits for a signal back by torch wave on the deck. He covers the eye with his hand, on and off he signals code communicating the same message given by Han.  
The group sits silently, half the eyes on Shivax in the tree keeping a lookout for a light code back the others watching the barge. Zirul squints at the tree, his eyes matching the gaze of Shivax but the moonlight does not suffice to tell the message being signed. He looks over to Dog “You can see in darkness right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he saying?”

Dog looks over to Zirul frustrated and worried “We’re being told to sit and keep watching.”

Z sighs and looks to Han as he looks back just as annoyed, brows furrowed all around Zirul shakes open his palms at Han waiting for a response “Well?”

Han looks up at the tree where Shivax sits, his yellow eyes watching them sit in the night “Captain wants us to sit then we sit, but…”

He pats his wavy brown hair forward “We need to know how long to sit, is he sending hawks to outposts, what changes our plan since we’re the only ones watching?”

Dog turns and looks to Shivax in the tree and signs the questions Han brought up, who then turns and signals the boat.

Ozzy scoots closer in the sand “How many men on the barge?”

Dog grunts “Bout two hundred, he’s got attack dogs too.”

The men shift uncomfortably about; grimacing at the thought of being outnumbered with the barge and Raven ship, Han keeps messing with his hair scratching his head then pushing it back in place and repeating the process “Yeah, those are not odds Petyr’s gonna take.”

Zirul nods silently then gently gasps and points toward Dog “Can you draw the barge, like a basic layout?”

Dog tilts thinking about the question “Part of it yeah, you got parchment?”

Zirul reaches in his bag shifting about his gear trying to get hold of a roll that is being obnoxiously difficult to grab properly so it wouldn’t tear, he unravels the roll and pulls out a quill and ink, Ozzy leans in “Why do you have that?”

Zirul ignores the question but Han chuckles “He has a bunch of shit in his bag that he never needs, you ever lift that thing?”

Z smirks “Never need huh? Looks like now is never then.”

“Even still that bag probably weighs as much as those foldable boats.”

“If I could I would cram one of those in here too.”

Wormont now scoots in “Can’t you use magic to do that sorta thing?”

Zirul watches as Dog sketches the barge, he turns his head slightly towards Wormont but never moves his eyes “Me? No, that’s not the magic I practice.”

“What do you practice then?”

Zirul stands up and draws a simply constructed bastard sword, the hilt and pommel are decorated with etchings of vines and flowers blooming, the long perfectly smooth razor sharp blade has deeper artwork of lightning crackling throughout. All the men but Han and Dog look at the blade with great interest but confusion to the meaning of the filigree.  
Zirul smiles while displaying his sword turns to slight surprise that no one knows what is before them. Dog breaks the silence with laughter as he gets up to pace the tree line.  
“Z you serve in the Templars, you really expect them to know about any gods except for the Saints?”

Zirul sighs “I am a servant of Io, I wield his blade, Storm Soul.”

The men still look at him with confusion; Dog continues to laugh wryly, “Do any of you not worship the three Saints?”

They all look at one another and shake their heads, Dog pats Z on the back and sits “He believes in the natural cycle of life basically, light and darkness not at odds, a powerful storm may bring destruction but rains will bring blooming flowers and fresh life. Basically nature exists.”

Zirul clicks his tongue “Not exactly, I serve to protect nature from the unnatural.”

Ozzy scoots closer resting his chin on his palm, a curious light in his eyes “What’s unnatural?”

Zirul thinks for a moment “If Nikolai was stealing the souls of the slaves, the work of devils or demons, unnatural magics of the realm, by my sworn duties to Io I would have to intervene with or without the Captain’s support.”

“Huh, how are you a Templar? Don’t you have to worship the three Saints?”

Han shakes his head “Not anymore, King Iesefar ruled that the Templars may accept other worshippers, there’s a list on the ship somewhere of what’s acceptable… Before that I just… Kept quiet.”

Wormont excitedly blurts in “Wait, you said that’s his sword? You have a god’s sword? Does that make you his avatar?”

Zirul sways his head side to side analyzing the best way to answer, his eyes meet the moon, then quick worried glance to the barge and over to Shivax who is still watching from the tree tops. Z adjusts about keeping Shivax in his view, uncomfortable with the eyes watching his back before looking back to Wormont.

“Not exactly, I studied for years and years the whereabouts of the blade before seeking it out, I still must prove myself worthy or the blade will find a new wielder. There are trials I must face before being chosen, finding Storm Soul was the first step... Through prayer and my oath I am granted certain magics but nothing more than what you would find in the healing churches.”

The Templars sit quietly pondering the thought of possibly serving with an avatar of a god, even if it’s a lesser known god than the Saints to serve with a man chosen would be the most incredible thing, an unstoppable force the team would become indeed.  
…..

Captain Cavill stands with Officer Mitt looking over a map of the Lucas Isles, there are red dashed lines circling the central island chains around and through the Emerald Isles down to Crash Landing and spanning west past the Ogat Isles, Orth, and Abru. There are purple dashes circling the Shipwreck Isles and South Fall as well as scaling the coast of Vistria, and blue dashes along the coast of Ezrin.

The Captain points to peninsula on the mainland of the Lucas Isles then to another point further east “We’re off our route, not by much.”

Smitty points at the second mark “The Admiral won’t be to happy about us being off course.”

The Captain looks over and shakes his head “No, we’re tasked to patrol Lucas to keep an eye on Nikolai, it’s hard enough to hunt down his ships… Besides, I think we could be back on course before he finds out anyways.”

He leans forward on the table “Four hundred ships in nearly nine hundred thousand square miles.”

Smitty leans in as well grunting softly “I wouldn’t count it that way, half our ships are in the Emeralds.”

Captain grunts grabbing his ledger and flips through clicking his tongue “More than half, three hundred.”

Smitty grits his teeth almost as if growling at the map “Blasted goblins.”

The Captain winces and turns his head down and eyes closed; he closes the ledger and places it on the map covering the Emerald Isles.

Mitt opens his mouth to speak but decides against it then looks back at the map, the Captain taps on the table and walks over to the bridge window looking out over the deck “Send three hawks, Solt, Bara, and Athertus are all within an hour or so, I want to make a move before dawn and we will need the lords to agree to send more ships.”

“Yes Sir.”

Smitty turns and runs up the steps to the communications center as the Captain looks out on the balcony.

Mitt scribbles on three small parchments their location and request for aid for movement on Nikolai’s barge and the Raven ship then takes a fourth parchment writing. 

“Templars have you, we’re closing in before dawn.”

He ties up the messages and looks out the window for the Captain and waits for him to go back in before sending out hawks.  
Shivax sits in treetop perch and watches as three hawks fly overhead, one west, the other three south above the trees along the bay but another breaks off and circles back to the barge. Shivax looks down to the group below seeing them inattentive to the hawk’s movements then squints at the ship but unable to see the figure in the communications center.

…..

Hours pass, idle chit chat continued between the men, Han keeps an eye on the barge and Raven ship, fishermen settling down and heading indoors with a few Ravens above. Zirul and Dog share uncomfortable glances up to Shivax who stays watching from his perch as well as checking back with the ship with long haunting stares.  
The group snaps to attention at the barge when screams echo in the bay. The men grip their swords looking to Han for direction who settles them. He looks to Dog, his eyes dead, zoned out on the sands. He says nothing at first but as the night drags on the screams do not stop, the agony gets Dog antsy, twitching his leg and pacing, scratching his arms and neck, twiddling his fingers like playing piano, Han stands and grabs hold of him “You need to relax, I know you’re sick of sitting here but we need to be smart about this.”

Dog continues to shake, frustration and panic in his voice it wavers “I know those screams, it’s his welcoming gift, he’s marking them.”

Han grabs his broad shoulders and forces him to look forward turning his body away from the barge “Hey, focus, we don’t have the numbers to act out of emotion.”

Dog tries to turn to look back at the barge but is pulled away again; he takes deep breaths and nods.

Han looks over to Zirul packed up, he steps forward and pulls Han aside “Let me take him back to the ship, I’m gonna ask the Captain if I can take a small team aboard the barge to gather more information, not rescue, just get a closer look.”

Han looks to him sternly “He’s not gonna want…”

“I know, no Dog, it’s not a rescue... Don’t tell me you’re not bothered by us sitting here waiting while hearing people get tortured.”

“Why not just signal from here, save the trip?”

Zirul’s eyes glance up to Shivax in the tree “I need to speak with the Captain myself, something feels off.”

Han follows his eye line “You don’t trust him? He was appointed by the Admiral.”

“It’s been hours and we’ve gotten nothing from the Captain.”

Han scoffs and looks back at Zirul with disbelief; he leans in speaking softly “Is it because he’s an Aurock?”

“No dammit, just… something Dog said is weighing on my mind.”

Han looks back to Shivax watching in the tree “He might be creepy but I trust the Admiral.”

Z sighs, “Yeah I know, I know.” he rubs his eye with his palm and sighs again

“I’m gonna grab Dog and head back.”

Han nods and sits back down, Zirul grabs his bag and whispers to Dog, they take one of the boats and head off into the jungle

…..

Zirul’s heavy boots pound the steel steps as he climbs up to the bridge, he pauses and looks over his shoulder to see Dog is not behind so he quickly heads back down to look around the deck to catch sight of Dog climbing and swinging in upstairs, he shakes his head as he makes back up speaking out loud as he enters “You gotta stop doing that.”

The Captain, Officer Mitt, and Dog look at Zirul as he enters all in unison saying he’s “Just been told.”

Zirul nods to the Captain and enters “Sir I would like to make a move on Nikolai’s ship.”

“So would I but we don’t have the men, we have to wait.”

Zirul steps to the table “I understand sir but if I may I would like to take a small team aboard the barge.”

The Captain turns his head thinking on the proposition “For what purpose?”

“Well” he takes out the map that Dog drew “Dog mapped out the barge to his memory, we counted routes of the guards, with a small enough team we could get up into the communications maybe find out where he has his ships moving, make it a lot easier to track em than this.”

Sam steps in “Or we could wait until dawn, hit the barge, then gather information after we catch the bastard.”

Dog huffs drawing the attention of the soldiers, the Captain locks eyes with him “What?”

Dog huffs again “He’ll burn everything, if we attack the barge all the slaves will be killed before we get them and any information will be destroyed before we see it. Only way we get anything or rescue anyone is if we get on before he knows.”

Officer Mitt scoffs “How the hellfire do you expect to sneak up to the barge without either of their crews spotting you then climb up and work your way into the comm center past the bridge where Nikolai and his top men will be.”

Dog stomps his foot and huffs “Nikolai isn’t in the bridge, and we don’t need to climb up.”

The Captain puts the back of his hand to Smitty’s chest to stay him “What do you mean you won’t be climbing up?”

“Sub level four and five are built around and looking into a torture chamber so we could watch what will happen to us. The entire room gets horribly bloody so for easy clean the floors open up so blood and bodies can be washed and dumped out beneath the ship. You can swim under the barge and enter the ship from the brig.”

Zirul lifts his chin and strokes the beard hairs on his neck watching the Captain do the same, he opens his mouth but pauses before speaking “How do you know the floors will be open?”

“Because it’s how he spends every night.”

Zirul softly interjects before the Captain responds, “We can hear the screams Sir, from the beach.”

The Captain turns to the map leaning on the table, Dog continues “He may be down there, we sneak in, take out guards, start unlocking cells, we may be able to take him in before…”

“No, this is not a rescue mission, we cannot expect the slaves to survive swimming out under the barge and I will not let you fight your way out.”

Dog huffs and steps up to the table “Petyr we can sneak out…”

“No, you said he’s torturing slaves, you were beaten before you even got on his barge. Sixty something slaves cannot sneak, they cannot swim, they cannot fight, I will not risk you or my men getting trapped on that barge, this is not a rescue.”

Dog snarls “I’m not a Templar I don’t take orders from you.”

Captain Cavill steps up to him, looking Dog in the eyes “You’re my friend but I would sooner lock you in the brig before letting you get anyone killed in a reckless attempt to save them.”

Dog huffs and stomps out onto the balcony leaping up and climbing to the nest.

Zirul steps beside the Captain “I’m not asking for a rescue, give me three men, in and out.”

Smitty steps to the other side “It’s a suicide mission, we don’t need another one of those.”

The Captain and Zirul snap their focus to Smitty with complete hatred in their eyes, their teeth gritted “Walk away.”

Smitty tightens his lips “I’m sorry.”

The Captain bites his tongue and steps to the balcony door “Dog’s right, we attack tomorrow they’ll kill all the slaves before we even get aboard. Even if take him in and kill all his men Nikolai’s ships will still be out doing what they do. We need to get ahead of them.”

He looks back to Zirul “Three men, and tell Han he can come back.”

Zirul nods and makes his way out to the balcony, he waves out “Hey Wil!”

“Yeah?”

“Get me Ren, Kvothe, and Sam; make sure they’re ready to go, armored but no uniforms.”

“Yes sir.”

Zirul turns and grabs hold of the ladder climbing up to the nest, with a grunt he pulls himself through and rolls over sitting across from Dog. Moments pass in silence as they look at the deck below, Z looks over to Dog waiting for the same contact rather than looks down.

“Why do you do that to him? You know we all want to save them.”

Dog purses his lips keeping his eyes lowered “I just, I can’t do it again.”

“Do what?”

“I can’t just take this blessing, the chance the gods gave me, the master’s forgetting me, I can’t leave the others behind, not again.”

Zirul taps his foot against Dog’s, he looks up at Z worry in his eyes “Don’t worry, we’ll get em back.”

They sit silently looking back out at the deck, the moon over the jungle, and the bay past the peninsula and treetops. Zirul gets up and begins to descend the ladder; he pauses before leaving and flicks Dog on the leg “You trust me to do right by you?”

Dog grunts “Yeah.”

…..

Zirul sits across from Kval at the back of the boat, they each quietly row gently pushing the water and drifting towards the wheel of the barge, and between them are Ren and Sam. Kval stares at their silver hair, Ren’s very metallic with strands of fiery red, Sam, in irony the youngest on the ship with silvery white hair like an old man; Kval looks to Zirul watching them and mouths pointing at the two before him “They siblings?”

Zirul shrugs “Sam.”

Sam looks up and shakes his hair out of his eyes.

“You got any family?”

Sam nods “Yeah my sister serves with Captain Donald in the Emerald Isles.”

“The Black Cliffs?”

“Aye sir.”

“Well shit, that’s rough stuff.”

“Aye sir.”

Zirul looks over to Ren, her hands moving about stirring the waters only slightly, mist rising creating sprawling cloud of fog drifting about the bay. He looks back to Sam “Is your sister Ilana Gray?”

“Yes.”

Zirul smiles and looks at Kval’s mouth drop “She was one of the first female Templars right?”

“Aye and she has the most confirmed in the Black Cliffs.”

Ren mutters something under her breath leaning away as Kval grins and leans closer to Sam “She pretty?”

Sam shakes his head ignoring Kval directing his attention to Ren “What was that?”

She looks away back at the fog growing out of the waters speaking so softly her voice could barely be heard in the silence “I was trained with your sister, in the Kings Wood.”

Kval turns his attention to Ren now “Is she pretty?”

Ren looks over with a sour expression at Kval then looks over to Sam and smiles “She’d beat your ass.”

Kval leans back and rows “I don’t care.”

Now Zirul scoots in “K from what I hear unless you like it up the butt she won’t be interested.”

“Hey, I don’t care how she wants it, I like it all.”

Ren cringes and looks back to the water muttering to herself.

The rest of the trip is in silence drifting to the stern wheel and listen to the screams still echoing down in Nikolai’s chamber below. They tie the boat up on the metal spokes of the exterior wheel and climb up. Zirul following last with Kval they watch in awe of Ren and Sam nimbly climb up just as quickly as Dog would.   
Crouched behind a large container of dead fish they watch the guards circle the aft deck as well as the ones on the boiler deck and main routes checking the times that Han counted. The minutes pass slowly as ever as the team watches in utter silence keeping time of the routes around twice. Zirul turns and displays the map on the floor

“Alright, the comm center is on boiler deck, Dog says chart room and Nikolai’s office should be up there as well. The wheelhouse is hurricane so we need to be extremely quiet and careful for them to not hear. Exterior stairwells are mid port and star, hurricane steps forward and aft right there.”

He says as he points to the stairs leading up to a lit chamber beneath the lookout then over to the right to the stairwell from main to boiler. The others nod and they watch as the guards turn on their route, Zirul is first to go, then Ren, Kval, and Sam bringing up the rear. They quickly move down the starboard tucked against the walls then up the tight rusted steps to the boiler floor. Zirul peaks around the corner seeing the guards walking the last steps to the front, he looks down to Sam “Unlock this.”  
Sam looks over the banister of the steps for guards then climbs up onto the boiler crouching up to the door. Shouts echo over the waters and metal grinding, Zirul backs against a beam hiding with Sam while Ren and Kval lay on the steps. Z looks out to the sounds as the Raven ship disconnects from the barge, the sails expanding to pull away and ores pushing off. Sam turns back to the door twisting the pin to a click and pushes the door open Zirul following him.  
Ren crawls up to the deck to follow but the second pair of guards steps around the corner, she lays back down and tightens beneath the ridge, she holds her finger up to her mouth, Kval staying low and tucked just like her as Zirul gently closes the door leaving a small crack to watch the guards pass.   
Ren holds her breath as the guards walk over and onward, a sigh of relief until the heads of the guards on the main deck appear in sight. Kval stands watching the boiler guards continue away and begins to ascend the steps noticing too late Ren waving him to stay in place.

A gruff voice speaks from behind Kvothe “What are you doing?”

He slowly turns stretching to conceal Ren behind him “Me? Yeah I was sent to relieve Smith, needs to shit I guess.”

The guards look at one another then back to Kval “I don’t recognize you.”

“Yeah I was on the Raven but I climb, told Nikki I wanted my own ship or to be on his.”

The two guards look at him with shock “Did you just call the boss Nikki?”

Kval leans forward putting his boot up on the banister, elbow on knee and chin on knuckle, he smiles and nods “I’m his nephew, I can say that, buy you, you’d have your tongue cut.”

The guard nods “I was gonna say, last guy to call him that spent a week in the chair.”

The other turns and steps forward then stops to look back at Kval “I didn’t know he had a neph…” before he finishes the sentence his eyes glance past K to Ren tucked against the wall.   
Seeing the eyes drift Kval quickly steps up to the right and a dagger flies out from behind him into the guard’s throat. The other steps back but before he can draw his sword a dagger lodges in his forehead. Kval looks behind to Ren, her left arm still extended fingers outstretched towards where the guard’s head was and another throwing dagger at the ready in her right, he puts his hand to his chest and breathes a sigh of relief.

“I almost had that.” he takes another deep breath “Let’s bring em in.”

The chart room is lit with red chemical lanterns, the barge sits rather still but with the Ravens headed out there is a slight shift in the fluid that oozes about the containers that hang. There are several tables along the walls and pushed together in the center creating a rather cluttered space with maps, dials and tracking tools on them. There are maps on the walls as well and colored pins pegged onto different cities within the Lucas Isles. In Solt are three green pins and a blue, another green in Athertus and Bartholomew, and a red and green in Bara.  
Kval and Ren push the bodies under the center table while Sam moves in the shadows of the red-lit hall peering into a small dining chamber and makeshift kitchen. Another cramped space and just as messy, trash on the floor, plates and tankards, food pieces left on the table, and an awful stench from a bathroom the size of a storage closet just beyond. There is a spiral stairwell going up and below with barks and clanks of glasses with laughter can be heard down and soft whispers above.

Zirul strokes his beard looking at the bodies then out the glass at the Raven ship headed out the bay northward, Kvothe looks out as the ship draws near the edge of the peninsula “Shit they’re gonna spot us.”

“Not necessarily, either way we need to be fast, won’t be long before these two are missed.” He turns and heads to the door and nods down the hall unaware of Sam’s location

A shadow moves only slightly in the darkness. Zirul turns and waves Ren and Kval ahead of him, they creep to spiral stairs. Ren hops onto the railing and pulls herself up just enough to peek at the floor above lifting her body against the ceiling planked horizontally. She slowly lowers herself still hanging to the floor above and planked like an upside down pushup “There’s two inside the comm center, oil lantern, three hawks.”

Ren lifts herself up again turning her ear to the whispers “Wait.”

“What is it?”

She lowers herself and looks to Z “Something about attacking Solt and Bara, they’re going to circle the bay.”

“The Ravens?”

“No.” she pauses listening “The ogres.”

Zirul looks to Sam on the steps “Be gentle with them.”

Sam nods and scurries up the steps with catlike grace. Ren slowly lowers herself once Sam passes and watches him spread his legs and scoot up the wall then continue down the hall to the door out outstretched across the ceiling inch by inch.   
Once above the door he lifts his right hand and pulls his sleeve up and a string forward looping it to his finger, which stays tucked. He then lifts his left and does the same before he readjusts to grab hold of the frame.   
Sam pushes off with his leg and swings himself into the room landing lunged on the floor between the two men, his left arm forward and right pointed to the side extending the fingers a small bolt releasing from the mechanisms and into each of their throats. They gag as blood gurgles and gushes out their mouths and trachea before they collapse he grabs their collars and slowly lets them down.

As Kval enters with Ren and Zirul he looks about the ceiling of the hall Sam crawled on and the two dead men on the floor “Dog isn’t even here but I’m surrounded by monkeys.”

Zirul shakes his head down, “Assassins.”

“What?” Kval says looking over.

“Sam’s father, he was a killer, taught Sam as a boy.”

Kval nods with a smile, “Interesting. And her?”

Z shrugs, “You’d have to ask.”

Stepping into the communication center Zirul gets out his bag and plops it on the center table “Grab every paper and put it in, we don’t have time to read through this shit now.”

His sentence trails as he watches through the glass, a blue flare firing out above the Raven ship. The others pause, their hearts stopped waiting for cannon fire, but nothing. Zirul looks about at the team standing “Now! Let’s go!”

Ren and Sam collect papers in stacks and set them in the bag carefully, Kval shovels an entire table of pages into a trash bin then dumps it on top. Zirul steps to the window listening to guards shouting on the deck below

“Bruise and Doogen are missing!”

“Chart door is open!”

Zirul draws his sword and walks out towards the spiral steps, listening to the door open and a series of steps into the room and spilling into the hall he holds the blade close and speaks to it

“An Endozo Maza Naf Morgo”

The etchings on the blade glow blue and it crackles with lightning energy, he watches the first, second, third hands of the guards grabbing the rails and running up the steps and gently sets the blade down. The current flows through like river rapids crashing through rocks, screams fill the hall as the men fling themselves back and tumbling over the railing and down the steps to the landing.  
Zirul leans forward to watch the guards fall only to look into the faces of three more aiming their crossbows up at him. He throws himself back against the wall as the first bolt flies pegging into the ceiling then dives to the floor as two more bolts fly nailing into the wall. Kvothe throws the bag over his shoulder and helps Zirul up while Sam and Ren step out onto the hurricane deck swinging themselves over the railing and down onto the balcony below behind four guards making their way to the chart room door.   
Sam draws a handheld crossbow aiming and firing at the last guard in the pack, there is a splint of light and ping as the bolt hits the corner and arcing out away from his target.  
The guard turns to return the shot Sam who bends backwards to duck the shot but falls on his back, a dagger glints in the moonlight as it spins and lances through the guards hand. Pushed aside as he shouts in pain dropping the bow another dagger flies out into the chest of the guard pushing from behind. Ren looks with fear to Sam on the ground listening to the barks of a dozen hounds and chains dragging on metal silencing the shouts of the guard’s pain “Get to the boat.”

He nods and bounds like a cat leaping up and over the boiler deck railing and down onto the main. The barks louder and louder, he can feel the vibrations and rattles of chains on the steel floors around him. Sam darts forward, the barks ever closer he slides over a table, behind him it flips as it’s tossed and dragged about by chains yanking out the legs, the barks right on his heels, his boot hitting the jaw of the nearest. Sam screams with his feet slipping he throws himself up, arm stretched out to grab the shipping container before him.

Kval pats Zirul on the back and pushes him to the side, drawing a small iron ball with a thin wick spiraling around it. His hand glows red as he grips the ball and rolls it forward, the rope peeling as it lights, embers drifting behind like a cape in the wind. Kval looks to Zirul with a smile, listening to the steps of the guards stomping up the stairs and the clank of the ball rolling of the first step

“White Fire!”

The guards throw themselves down the steps toppling over one another, the white fire explosive clanking down the next two steps, the soft growl of the metal as it rolls off and a whistle before a deafening boom as flames fill the stairwell with a screech of the metal warping and splitting, and screams of guards being slammed to the walls, crisped, and penetrated by a hundred iron pellets.

As the guard falls backwards the other pushes himself back off the wall pulling the dagger out of his hand with a grunt and grimace. 

“You bitch!” 

He shouts as he thrusts the blade forward she ducks right parrying the blade outward with her left following through with her elbow to his nose, blood immediately spurting out. She grabs his wrist putting her shoulder under his dropping her knee and throwing him over slamming man to his back.   
He shouts again spitting blood up, Ren leverages her foot into his shoulder and twists the arm snapping the wrist and pulling the blade away and with a quick whoosh his artery is cut wrist to elbow freeing more trapped blood. She turns to face the chorus of steps behind her, out of the corner she sees the other two guards, the bloody dagger singing as it cuts the air in the light of the moon before it lodges into a shin.

The man swears as he falls to the ground; Ren pulls another dagger from her belt, lunges and drives it into his temple. A lead bolt presses to the top of her head, the other guard standing with his crossbow resting on her skull ready to pierce it.   
A raspy voice sounds from behind the guard, stepping from the shadows of the starboard deck are perfectly shined leather low heeled boots.

“You’ll die before you even lift that blade, stand down.”

Ren drops the dagger and looks up, before her stands an older man in a black surcoat with chainmail beneath extending to shagreen leather gloves, a black belt with silver inlay tight at the waste. His face is stern and pale, wrinkles of hatred, the face of a man with an eternal frown. He slicks his graying hair back and takes a step forward to Ren, more guards shuffle out onto the aft boiler deck surrounding her.

Sam’s hand wraps around the metal as he slams into the side with reverberating bang, teeth sinking into his left heel through his boot peeling away the skin and crunching bone; Sam throws his other hand up screaming again as pulls himself up the hound on his heel shaking vigorously banging into the container with his teeth grinding on bone. As he lays out on the top of the container the hound drops with a whimper, there is a whistle behind silencing the others, turning he sees Nikolai with dozens more guards with Ren pinned to the ground.

As Kval and Zirul make their way down the blackened steps, covering their mouths through the smoke and stench of burnt skin and leather they hear a voice shout to them

“You are cut off and surrounded, stand down and your friends will live.”

Zirul’s heart sinks; he shuts his eyes bowing his head to his hand holding his breath stepping into the chart room to see Nikolai through the glass with Ren bound. He sheathes Storm Soul and steps out with his hands up, Kval behind him doing the same. Zirul stops before Nikolai, the two sizing one another up staring silently at the other. There are clanks and grunts as Sam is dragged up to the boiler deck and the four and put on their knees and placed in manacles.  
The papers are dumped out of the bag onto the deck, Nikolai’s first mate strikes a match dropping it into the pile of parchment.  
As the flames grow Nikolai steps over to Zirul and pulls him to his feet; he unsheathes Storm Soul and holds it before Z examining the artistry of the blade. There is a long silence, everyone watches Nikolai delight in the beauty of Io’s chosen sword, his men waiting for him to speak he looks back to Zirul and sheathes the blade. 

He shakes his head very slightly “Signal Captain Cavill, he’ll want his men back.”


	2. Chapter 2, The Survivor

Rha pauses listening to the steps of drunks down the street, the splash of a puddle as one stumbles off course, hearty laughter of his compatriots and swears wiping the mud and water off his pants then continuing on. Rha takes another step and looks up and down, no one but the drunks down the way, he swiftly crosses the drive like a ghost, his feet like a cat’s paws on stone. He pauses again watching the apothecary listening for steps, he peers out examining the streets, no lantern lights of the guards. A strained voice whispers from behind.

“Sir, sir.”

Rha turns searching the dark alley, a ragged beaten down man adjusts his dark mud soaked robe lifting himself off the wall and uncrossing his legs to stand, he groans and slumps back massaging his knee.

“Sir, can you spare a coin, or food perhaps.”

Rha takes a step towards the man, his own stomach grumbling, his eyes drift further down the alley thinking on his last meal; the chicken feed two days prior, he rubs his jaw, it was rather hard to chew. He reaches into his side bag feeling for the stale ration his mother found on the street earlier, maybe there is extra horse feed at the stable. Rha kneels handing over the ration brick.

“You need this more than I do.” He says with a smile to the beggar, who returns the smile. 

“Thank you sir, you are very kind.” 

He pauses staring at the moonlight in a puddle, mind drifting ever so slightly again wishing there was more he could do. Turning as he stands Rha approaches the corner again listening to movements in the streets, it seems safe enough. Reaching into his bag again he draws a small scrap of cloth, the charcoal has smeared but the list is not long.

“Mandragora, butter, celandine, radish, garlic.”

Rha rubs his eyes focusing on the smeared writing, the amounts for ingredients is far too smudged, he turns his head pondering, desperately trying to recall what Mama has said. He focuses back to the apothecary and crossing the street like a ghost once more he adjusts himself against the door of the shop; he quietly jiggles the handle, locked as suspected. Rha breathes in deeply and steps back then kicks the door open, the wood on the hinges splinter and the door slams into the wall with a loud thud, the shelf beside shakes, jars scooted only enough to make one nervous they’d fall.  
Rha slowly walks the aisles looking at labels and tags on each of the colored bottles, uncorking the few without and sniffing the contents filling his bag with only what he needs. The search becomes more impatient the longer it takes him to find the butter, up and down the aisles again no butter, behind the counter, through the cabinets, the back room there is no butter, why is there no butter? Rifling through drawers in storage room desk Rha freezes nervously listening to footsteps out on the cobblestone, voices, several unclear but at least three. He silently lifts the desk chair and tucks himself beneath sliding the chair back hiding himself in the extra shadows as a metal gauntlet knocks on the front door.

“Hello, anyone here?”

Several heavy boots shuffle into the room, Rha sits patiently listening to the armor on the men adjust, chainmail, chest plate, greaves, there is a weight to their steps, guards. Three more clanking knocks on the door. 

“This is Captain Almeric Kane of City Watch, I ask you to come out peaceably, you’re trapped, do not make this harder than it needs to be.”

Rha sits in silence watching the hall to the storage room, the guards whisper as they search the front, behind the counter now, four or five of them at least. A pair of high boots stops at the door, Rha turns his head towards the wall crossing his arms and turning his cloak outwards. Another pair of boots meets the man at the door, their heavy steps move about, one inching along the wall the other walking to the desk.

The voice from the wall “What do you think they wanted?”

The boots reach the desk, the man moves about papers then shuts the drawer. “I have no clue.”

The cabinet squeaks, the guard shuffles items hastily about. “Clearly a fool, look at this.”

Rha turns his head enough to watch from the corner of his eye, the guard before him still standing over the desk but turned away.

“Look how big this box of tobacco is, oh wait, ooooh, and Thurm Bark too.” He whistles with excitement then deeply inhales from the box. “Oh that’s good and pure.”

“Alright put it back, maybe he doesn’t smoke or chew.” Says the man at the desk.

“Still worth good money, who breaks in but doesn’t steal the good stuff?”

“You’re right, that is odd” his voice trails off as he reopens the desk shuffling about papers. “Maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

He sets the papers on the desk and bends reaching his arm inside the drawer, gauntlets clumsily clanking as he feels for a hidden compartment before withdrawing and sighing heavily. “Huh, I thought…”

He grabs the backrest scooting the chair back but the Captain’s calls out from the front.

“Find anything?”

The chair halts “No, nothing.”

“Nerein, Bremmer get up here.”

The guard at wall immediately replies with a “Yes sir” and walks out, the other still grips the backrest drumming his fingers, he tightens his grip pausing before pushing it back.

“Nerein!”

“Yes sir.”

Rha breathes a soft sigh of relief peaking out as Nerein leaves, he bites his tongue watching the door listening to Kane give orders to search the perimeter followed by footsteps out. He sits quietly biting the inside of his cheek and lips, Mama will be worried soon, the longer he waits the more guards may come.  
Rha gently lifts the chair outward and scoots out from under the desk. Standing motionless he takes one last look around the room, he smiles at the cabinet, tentatively reaching out fingers turning the knob with a creak of the latch, he reaches for a small bag with a bean printed on it, Mama will be hungry.  
Stepping out of the stock door Rha freezes beside the counter, his eyes meeting with Kane still in entryway. They stare at one another, unblinking; Kane rests his hand on his sword adjusting himself before the door, Rha puts the beans in his bag. The Captain watches Rha’s eyes drift to the window then back to the door behind him.

“Don’t do it.”

Rha scans the room biting his inner cheek again waiting for the Captain to make a move; his breathing quickens, his eyes looking back to the window to other guards on the street then back to the Captain and steps along the counter. Kane draws his sword “Stop right there.”  
Rha takes two quick long steps toward the center display tables, Kane meeting his aggression moving forward reaching out his sword towards Rha “Stop now!”

Rha grabs the box apron and flips the table up at Kane, glass shatters as bottles hit the floor, Kane stumbles back into shelves knocking down more jars and vials tripping as he pushes the table away from himself in time to be struck in the chest as Rha charges forward shoulder down thrusting Kane through the window.

Kane hits the stone rolling backwards; before fully flattening out he immediately arches his back grimacing reaching to a piece of glass in his hip beneath his armor “Ow shi!t” 

“Captain!”

Kane rolls onto his side holding the spot “Forget about me, he’s inside!”

Two guards enter polearms pointed to Rha, he quickly steps back out of reach behind the counter. One rushes behind after him, Rha grabs the end of the shelf and throws it forward, the man thrusts his halberd up blocking the shelf but items still fall around him, he pushes onward for a second shelf to be thrown on top of him.  
The other guard circles around as Rha makes his way towards the backroom throwing another shelf over; tripping forward the guard balances himself kneeling on his weapon just as Rha brings his fist down on the man’s cheek knocking him to the side.  
Rha leaps over the shelf, the other guard freeing himself to slam Rha against the wall. He grabs the guard’s vambrace stepping out and back shoving the guard against the same wall following up by slamming his knee to the guard’s stomach only to meet the steel plate.  
The guard yells as he shoves Rha backwards across the room up against the shelves beside the broken window. He pins Rha with his vambrace grinding the metal into Rha’s soft skin he swings wildly yelling with rage pounding at Rha’s face over and over again until out of breath. The guard backs off panting and shaking the blood off, discouraged to see Rha still standing, his entire face covered in blood, cracked bone poking out of split cheeks, nose, and forehead; Rha licks the blood from his shredded bottom lip while making eye contact with the guard panting removing his crushed gauntlet he holds up his already bruised split knuckles “Blasted!”

Rha steps forward “Are you hurt?”

The guard looks to him still utterly shocked “What in the nine hells is wrong with you?”

Rha looks about the room whispering the question to himself, he reaches up on the shelf grabbing a jar and smashes it on the guards head dropping him to the floor. He bites his lip sucking on the blood and wipes his soaked brow with the back of his hand and shirt.  
Rha takes a knee beside the unconscious guard watching the other lifting himself up holding his head grimacing. He takes a flask from the guard’s belt and sniffs jerking his face back from the strong scent then tilts his head back then pours the liquor on his face rubbing it into the open wounds before looking back to the guard still holding his aching head, eyes wide and jaw dropped in fear and awe.

Rha speaks softly to the man “I remember salt, any over there?”

The guard stumbles forward looking around “How does that not hurt?”

“My face? It does not, salt?”

The guard looks around pointing to the door “Bag on the bottom shelf there.”

Rha nods “Thank you”, he lifts himself and walks over cupping his hand gathering up salt and shaking it into the wounds on his face. The guard turns his head away breathing in gritted teeth like a laboring woman.

“Oh my lord how does that not hurt?”

Rha turns to the door “Since I was child nothing hurt anymore.” He steps into the doorway then back to the remaining guard.

“You let me leave?”

The guard clears his throat looking back to Rha, his eyes quickly dart away to avoid staring at the gruesome wounds. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

He points at Rha’s face “So if that doesn’t stop you, I don’t like my chances.”

He watches Rha walk out to his Captain dragging who’s himself up against the wall holding the glass in one hand and the wound with the other a look of horror striking his face watching Rha approach. 

Rha takes a knee “Let me help.”

Confused Kane grunts and turns onto his side, Rha takes Kane’s hand into his and pours what’s left in the flask onto the wound, the Captain grinds his teeth and clenches Rha’s hand “Ow!”

Rha looks up at the guard within “He needs salt, stop bleeding.”

The guard shuffles out with a small handful of salt and sprinkles it in, Kane continues swearing clenching Rha’s fist then yanking his hand away to pound the ground. He looks up to Rha’s torn bleeding face only to receive a gentle smile and nod to the Captain. Confused still he looks over to the other guard who is just as confused. Rha pokes at Kane’s shoulder drawing his attention once more.

“I must go, get to a cleric.”

With swift feet Rha makes his way into the alley removing his cloak while walking wiping blood away and disappearing into the darkness.

…..

Rha creeps into the stable, his eye on Mama in the corner fast asleep, he makes his way to the trough. Rha fills a pale and with each splash of water on his face he looks back to Mama. After wiping his face dry he tiptoes over to her then slowly setting down giving her a hug.

“Mama, I could not find butter.”

She groans as she rolls over, her eyes still shut; weakly she speaks to his ear “This is fine.”

Reaching up to caress his face her fingers feel out a long jagged cut across his cheek she opens her eyes lifting herself up gasping “You are hurt.”

“No, no, Mama, I am fine.”

She cups his jaw and turns his face to hers “Rha.”

He pulls away and reaches into his bag “Look Mama, they had beans.”

“The shop?”

“Yes Mama, I tell the keeper of shop you very sick and hungry, he give me free of charge.”

She takes his hand and turns his face again smiling at her son “You always such terrible liar.”

“No, no Mama, honest, keeper say he pray for your good health.”

Her lip trembles, a tear drips from her eye, she sniffles and clears it away “The gods have blessed me with the greatest son.”

He bows his head to hers holding the precious silence then kisses her forehead. Their attention is drawn to the streets with guards march about in a hurry, one shouts “We’re looking for a half orc, gray green skin, injured, armed and dangerous.”

Rha turns back to his mother, a guilt ridden knot in his stomach “Rha did you hurt somebody?”

“No, no Mama.”

She coughs and coughs, Rha sits her up and rubs her back while the coughing continues. 

Flickering light drifts to the edge of the stable “Hello? Is someone there?”

Mama holds her breath, Rha watches the light, the shadow is unarmored. Mama grabs at Rha’s shirt; turning to face her she shakes her head, her eyes afraid, she can’t hold it in any longer. The coughing begins again

“Who’s there?” The voice shouts with fear. 

Rha stands and walks hesitantly towards the light of the oil lantern held by a scratchy bearded man in a nightgown.

“My name is Rhahanum Poma, but you may call me Rha.”

“Why are you in my stable?”

“Please sir, my mother is sick, she need rest.”

The man shakes his head vigorously stepping back as Rha enters the shaking light, the gashes bleeding, dark blue black bruising from the lump on his forehead around his swollen eye and down to his chin and cut lips.

“No, no, get back, get out now!”

Rha puts his hands up and slowly removes his shirt revealing burn scars covering much of his torso in the form of chains branded onto his skin in an X across his chest wrapping down to his legs and around his arms up to his wrists. More burns and shrapnel scars and can be seen on his hip and left abs and whip scars covering his back over the branding.

“Please, we escape Valat, we just need hide.”

The man steps back trembling with fear “Get back, get out!”

“Please sir, my mother is ill.”

The man continues to panic shaking like a leaf “I have a family too, the Valat will follow you, I can’t have that.”

Rha’s expression turns to sadness, he looks down then back up to the nervous man putting his shirt back on “I understand.”

The two look to the street as guards march by, metal boots clattering on the stone, Rha tucks himself into the shadows while the stable-keep watches him hiding then looks back to the guards “Wait, are you?”

He turns stepping closer to the street shouting for the guards. Rha grabs the pale of water in the corner and brings it down on the keep’s head with a loud clang and splash of water all about. The man falls forward his lantern with him shattering, the oil spreading with flame just as swift behind it spilling out onto dried hay. 

Rha jumps back “Oh no no no.”

The horses begin squeal and buck around in the stalls, Rha frantically stomps on the flame unable to contain the spread. He pulls his cloak out and throws it down under his stomach onto the fire smacking and rolling around. Mama runs over throwing down her blanket and cloak with him stamping it.  
Guards approach, one sprinting throwing his gauntlets off, he pets the manes and shushes the horses while two others help Rha and his mother in smothering the flames. He rolls over on his back coughing, Mama and a female guard with a pixies hair lift him up and walk him away from the smoke still hovering on the edge of the stable. 

He clenches his chest breathing deeply clearing his throat looking up to the female guard “A half orc with gray green skin hit my friend.”

He gestures to the unconscious stable keep then down an alley “He ran away off that way.”

Mama brings both palms to her face and begins to rub her eyes stepping back towards the corner she had been resting in, the guard cocks her head at Rha, a face of complete disbelief. Mama begins to cough patting her chest and bending over, Rha quickly runs to hold her slowly letting her down in her blanket corner with the beans. He looks back to the guard “Please he is getting away!”

She looks over to Mama then back to Rha still smoldering, bloody and bruised

“Harsdale, search for tracks on the streets, Mucklin go get my brother.”

“Yes ma’am” the two guards run back out to the streets, she turns back to Rha.

“What’s your name?”

Rha stands tall and proud “My name is Rhahanum Poma, but you may call me Rha.”

She looks surprised to get a name and in such an official manner. She smiles taking a step forward to give her own worthy introduction. “Oh, well, I am Lieutenant Melythai Kane, you can call me Mely. My brother Almeric is Captain and in charge of finding the man who attacked your friend.” she says nodding to the unconscious stable-keep.

Rha nods and smiles “It is good to know he is okay.”

“What?” Her brow furrows, she takes a step back worried Rha may fight like he did with her brother. 

Mama covers her face again; Rha drums his fingers on his thigh nervously.

“Oh, uh, your brother is well?”

“Yes?” she pauses and looks back to the stable-keep. “What was your friend’s name?”

“Um, uh, Ka, ka, Kal, it is hard for me to say.”

She looks back to Rha fumbling then up to candlelight in the window of the house up to a little girl looks down to her unconscious father. “Marshall, speak with his family.”

The guard nods making his way off to the front of the house, the last guard sidles beside Melythai, he gently rests his hand on his sword waiting for his Lieutenant to make a move.

“That is a strange accent you have, where are you from Rha?” 

“South Fall.”

She takes a step back reflecting the same nervousness as the stable-keep had. “Can you show me your palms?”

He turns his hands up.

“Sleeves up, let me see your wrists and arms.”

He pulls sleeves up enough to show the wrists but stops “Why arm?”

Melythai steps back again gripping her sword “Tattoos, show me your arms.”

Rha shakes his head looking down at their feet. “I am not who you think.”

He pulls his sleeves up revealing the chain brands wrapping up his arms “Please, my mother and I, we only escape them, we only want free.”

Mely looks on with dread, speechless, tears forming in her eyes from sorrow, Colburn steps forward staring at the burns “How did you escape?”

A boom echoes out from the bay quickly followed up with a second blast of stone and wood blown to bits, walls crumbling, glass shattering, and screams; another boom echoes followed quickly by walls exploding with succession of screams.

Colburn steps to Rha “Is that for you?”

“I’m not worth bombarding a city.”

They listen to another cannon fire blast paired with screams, “You sure?”

Rha, Melythai, and Colburn run out to the street looking out towards the eastern docks, a metal steam ship flying Templar flags drifts through the once calm bay waters, fiery white smoke seeping from the decks. They watch more puffs of smoke and light appear with immediate booms of the cannon with more screams filling the streets, walls of homes blown out, carriages torn to shreds and flipped on their sides, and roofs collapsing.

Colburn looks to Melythai “What the hell?”

She is worried but remains calm “That makes no sense, stay with Rha, I need to go help.” 

She runs towards the closest screams on the docks, Colburn turns back to Rha already running back to the house “Wait!”

“Mama the city is under attack, they need help.”

She lifts herself and hugs him “I understand, the people need you.”

“No no no, you are not going anywhere.” 

Colburn puts his hand on Rha’s shoulder “You’re staying with me until the Captain arrives so sit tight.”

Rha looks at the hand on his shoulder then whips around and slams his wrist palm up into Colburns nose with a crack, he falls back hitting his head with a heavy clunk of his armor and the thud of his skull. Blood gushes out of both nostrils and from a split between his eyes like basalt lava flow. Colburn puts one hand over his nose and the other to the back of his head moaning and rocking side-to-side “What the hell!”

“I am sorry.” He says calmly.

Mama rushes over kneeling beside Colburn “Rha why would you harm him?”

“Mama we must go, we are not safe with soldiers!” he tugs on her as she leans Colburn forward

“Breath through your mouth, stay forward.”

Colburn continues to moan and cuss, he pats at a small bag on his belt, wincing he reaches back for his nose. Mama reaches into the bag withdrawing a small cloth pressing it to his nose, she reaches back in taking out various vials leaving the coins. She looks at each putting all back but the honey and nightshade, which she dabs out over the break rubbing it over with two fingers and applying the cloth then putting more on the back of his head.

Rha stuffs their blankets into the bags and fills water-skins from the trough “Mama we must go!”

She looks over to him “Rha we do not hurt good men.”

He rushes to help her put Colburn up against the wall, she kisses his forehead then turns to follow Rha into the darkness of the alley.

…..

Melythai sprints down the street, several more booms echo on the waters; crowds run screaming as a cannonball rips through the stone railing of Beck River bridge, one man’s leg blasts off right under him and he’s thrown up into the air screaming, splashing into the water with the ball. Another man is hit with chunks of stone collapsing on the bridge, his wife runs to help him up; another boom and the cannonball hits the keystone tearing up the roadway sending more debris up. Blinded by the dust and struck with rubble she stumbles about for the missing railing, tripping and falling off into the waters.  
Melythai runs towards the bridge, another boom and the smithy shop sign is blown to bits with a hole through the second floor. Mely tackles a young man covering him from the shrapnel wood and glass and away from the falling sign. Within she hears floorboards snapping and heavy objects sliding and cracking through the ruined floors smashing down into the shop.  
Another blast hitting the corner manse and bursting through a palm trunk. The wood creaks as the palm falls into the river splashing with more cannonballs destroying the bridge. The woman still screaming and flailing about in the waters the bridge crumbling above her with her husband. Melythai puffs out a heavy breath and sprints across the street, a cannon ball battering the road just behind her. She can feel the stone flung up with her launching her over a flipped cart.  
She shakes her head and focuses on the woman in the water and dives in, more cannon fire echoes while she pulls the woman ashore; a chimney blown out and carriage shattered like glass spraying specks of wood into the screaming crowds.  
More walls blown out, scaffolds collapsing, trees burst, children lost and paralyzed with fear shouting for their parents. Melythai takes their hands and runs back up the road tucking away from an exploding balcony dodging the man falling off. She runs with families fleeing their burning homes past a tavern collapsed in flames but she stops to hear the panic of those trapped within.  
More guards arrive on scene putting up their shields covering citizens from the shrapnel blasts. Melythai hands the kids off to reinforcements and turns back running to the burning tavern.  
Back into the chaos she sees Nerein and Bremmer. A ball hits the street and bounces some thirty feet and up into Bremmer’s leg, even through the screams and explosions she could hear the bone snap as his knee folds backwards the bone blown out like the burst trees. His eyes glaze over as he falls without even a cry of pain as Mely and Nerein rush over. He pulls his gauntlet off and feels under the nose for breath while Mely pulls out her bandages and nightshade but sits motionless holding the blood against his protruding bone. She looks up at Nerein in a panic, her voice quivering and hands shaking “I don’t know what to do!”

Nere looks around focusing on the screams coming from the tavern, he takes Melythai’s shoulders “Bring him to the clerics, I’ll save everyone I can.”

She nods and grunts lifting Bremmer up into her arms “Nere, where’s my brother?”

A cannon ball hits the ground skipping the street; Nerein dives to the ground as the ball bounces past smashing into the tavern. He looks up to Melythai covering his head cowering on the ground shouting, “I have no idea!”

Melythai looks around frantically; moans of pain now coming from Bremmer waking, reaching for his leg crying. She runs up the street to the healing house calming him whilst looking back worried for her other friend. Nere gets up and runs bounding through the fire like a deer through the woods. In the back he finds a group of dockworkers and the bar keep huddled and shouting for help in the office. Nerein stands in the doorway, they all sit looking up at him.

“Well come on, let’s get outa here!”

They get up while Nerein takes out his shield, he points to the bookcase and desk

“Bridge over the fire, let’s go.”

They shove the bookcase out and tip it, flames puff out and around it with the smoke warping the same but quickly swirling back. Two other men throw the desk out before the bookcase, parting more of the flames. Each of the men climb up and over to the other side tossing themselves over the sill and out the window. Nere brings up the rear but less clumsy out the window. He puts his shield up over the back men as they all run up the street.  
A cannonball rips through stone slamming into his shield; the shield crunches into his arm popping his shoulder out. He hits the ground with the cannonball, tucking his arm in he watches the men continue on then around at the screaming crowds flooding the streets as more walls crumble.

“Seven.” he whispers to himself, he tries to move his arm but the shoulder pops again, his skin tightened and pressed outward. Nerein watches people running by, the bursts of the building, the smoke billowing from the tavern and house down the way, his mind becoming a fog. A voice calls out to him drawing back his focus, the pain is not so bad; he reaches for his broken shield pulling it closer but upon seeing it in worse shape than his shoulder he flips it away. The voice calls again, swinging his head over like a bobble he sees Melythai rushing to him. 

“Nere! Get up!”

His eyes widen as he smacks his cheek to come to, his breath strained and terror in his eyes, Mely tucks her arm under his and pulls him up and continues up the road. 

…..

Nearly two hours pass as Colburn sits silently slumped against the wall holding his nose and head, the bleeding had ended for some time but he had no interest in moving. Melythai finds him with half his armor removed, the cloth dried and red covering up part of a massive bruise, his eyes on her are daggers until she comes into the light; Colburn can’t help but smile, his heart warm and anger gone until he sets his head back causing intense pain. She smirks at him as she approaches.

“Did you try to stop him?”

He chuckles leaning forward groaning gripping his hip while he plants his other hand to lift up. “How does my whole body hurt?”

She helps him up. “You want the rest of the night off?”

He lightly laughs but it turns to a cough and wincing in pain back to laughter “By the heavens this hurts.”

“Go home, rest up, I’ll have a cleric sent.”

He groans more “No, my head bled, clerics say you shouldn’t sleep after that and if I’m gonna be awake I might as well be useful.”

She purses her lips and gently pats his shoulder smiling as he groans more. “How long did you sit in your armor?”

“Basically since you left.”

“You’re stiff, but I can fix that.”

“Yeah?”

She begins to walk to the street gesturing him to grab his gear and follow. “I want you to track Rha down, if you find him come to me first, not my brother.”

Fitting his belt and greaves back on “You think it’s smart to undermine your brother like that?”

“It’s not about that, it’s about keeping an escaped slave safe.”

Colburn stops and looks up “Safe? He robbed a shop and beat up several guards, he broke my nose.”

She steps back to him watching him adjust the chainmail “So you’re saying if we try to bring him in there will be a ruckus people may see and talk about? And then the Valat may hear about it and come to town?”

He puts his hands on the small of his back and bends backwards stretching what he can “Yeah… I guess.”

“I want to speak with him, try and get him out of town and as far north as possible.”

Stretching his arms “What? You’re gonna help him get away? He trashed that shop and assaulted us, he needs to pay.”

“He was a slave, he doesn’t have money, his mother was clearly sick, would you not do the same?”

He nods groaning more while stretching “They could’ve robbed me.”

“What?”

He jingles the coin bag “She left my coins after treating me, it would’ve been easy to take em, all I saw was darkness, they’re starving and on the run but she cared more about me than getting gold for food.”

“Yeah, apparently Rha gave rations to a beggar and treated my brother before running.”

“Yeah? How’s Thaniel?”

Melythai sighs and looks up at the moon “Aly sent him home, you see Rha’s face, that’s not right.”

Colburn smiles with a huff “Yeah, and he’s just a half breed, no wonder the orcs are so dangerous up north.”

“What?”

“That pain tolerance, definitely not his mother’s side.”

Melythai looks behind Colburn at the blood beside the trough and the scorched hay, near where the stable-keep once lay “I don’t think it’s that, I suspect he’s gotten more used to pain than anyone could ever imagine.”

Colburn solemnly looks down kicking dislodged pebbles about “I’ve never heard of someone escaping the Valat, he looked young but damn he is tough bastard.”

Mely scratches her head “Yeah, he might be the first ever, that’s why we need to get him north.”

He nods and heads off down the road, then turns back shouting “I’ll find him.”

She shouts back “Good, and see a cleric.”

…..

Colburn hunches over Hutchins and Leeworth crouched watching a shadow move about in a chained up crab shack; broken nets and boxes strewn about the small dock extending beneath the land floor, the rusted chain dangling with a broken lock thrown on the ground. A small flame grows on an old desk, the papers burn out but the fire spreads across the entire surface.  
Rha jerks his head back from the crackling flames not expecting it to spread so quickly. He looks about collecting empty pales before making his way down to the deck floor and out fetching water.

Hutch looks up at Colburn slowly raising his finger to touch the bruised nose but gets his hand smacked down with an angry expression. He shrugs at Lee glaring “Really?” 

Hutchins looks up at Colburn’s angry eyes and clenched fist.

“Sorry, don’t break my nose Sir.”

“You touch my nose and I will.”

“Sorry” his eyes search about the ground then back to the crab shack, Rha now back up the steps dumping the water on the sides and bottom of the desk and the floor around hoping to maintain the fire without extinguishing.  
Leeworth squints with disgust watching Rha move about, half his face one massive blotched bruise and open wounds “Oh my Saints, that’s him?”

Hutchins scoots forward to the edge of the alleyway “What do you say James? Should we make a move?”

Colburn feels the welt on the back of his head, he stays silent; the two guards look back at him as he sighs “No, I’m not looking for another round with him.”

Hutch looks back “Doesn’t need to be a fight, I could hit him with a crossbow from here.”

“Shooting an escaped slave while he warms up by a fire with his mother, that would be cruel, is that what you’re suggesting?”

“No sir, I just…”

He turns back watching Rha wrap his mother up “Didn’t know you had this compassionate side.”

“Yeah well, been patrolling with Melythai a lot, she puts things in perspective.”

Leeworth and Hutchins chortle looking to one another “Patrolling sir?”

Colburn rolls his eyes “Oh do shut up, I’m not her type.”

“I don’t know sergeant, you’ve got soft skin.”

The laughter continues, Colburn stands upright “I’ve heard enough of this, I’ll be back with the Lieutenant soon, don’t be stupid.”

He clears his throat directed at Hutchins, the two turn their heads back “I’m serious, you will not shoot him and I know you won’t win a fight.”

“Yes sir.”

Colburn cracks his back again groaning all the way down the alley mumbling to himself trailing off in the darkness “Bastard hit me so hard in the head my ass hurts.”

Hutch and Lee snicker at one another then back to watching Rha warm up with his mother. Hutchins leans over “You really think I’d lose against him, doesn’t look that big.”

Leeworth looks over smiling shaking his head “You really are thick aren’t you.”

“No, I just, never lost a fight.”

“He beat the Captain, Mar, and Thaniel in a fight, all of em armed and armored but him, so yeah, you’d lose.”

Hutchins sighs glancing back at Rha focusing on his horrific face. “I heard Thaniel punched him a fifty times with his gauntlets on, broke his own hand and still got knocked out.”

“Heard that did ya? Why would you think you’d beat him then?”

Hutch’s eyes drift out to the lower dock to the broken boxes and torn nets “You’re right, that was a dumb question.”

Lee smiles turning his head slightly to follow his friend’s gaze “Good to know you’re learning”.

…..

Melythai follows aid carriages down the road to High Point Tower, in the yard dozens of people lay on cots throughout several tents filled in the square around the well. Three tables are set up where clerics in black surcoats with an hourglass set by a double cross stitched in white on the backs roughly handling patients. Moans of pain and muffled screams as limbs are sawed off and bones forcibly set fill the air. She nods to several people she helped out of the fray making her way to Bremmer, his head droops to the side, eyes glossy, drool slowly dripping out slurring “Lieutenant.”

Melythai sits beside him looking at the cast “Don’t touch it, not dry yet, they said.”

She nods and takes his hand “How are you?”

His head rolls over to the other side “Good” he rolls his head back to her.

She smiles “Did the Balo clerics give you something to soothe the pain?”

He chuckles lazily to himself, drool oozing out of either corner of his mouth “They didn’t want to, but five ghoul, five, five gold goes long way.”

She looks back to the clerics of Balo watching one hold a guard down while the other shoves a guard’s shoulder into place. She stands and watches the man snap the stick in his mouth whippings his head around growling at the clerics to hurry up, she rushes over “Nere calm down!”

“No you calm down, this bloody hurts!”

Crunch!

“Ooooooooh Shit!”

The two clerics let off and step back, Nerein rubs his shoulder looking around at the two men and Mely “Off the table, we have more patients than you.”

He sits up grumbling massaging his shoulder, lifting himself off the table glaring at the two clerics waiting rather impatiently for him to move “Geez the city gets attacked they act like…”

He stops looking at the stony demeanor of the cleric on his left, the man shoos Nere away “You’re better, now leave.”

He groans while walking away over to Bremmer, he pats Melythai on the back “Your brother’s inside.”

She nods and makes her way up the north steps into the fortress, inside are more crowds of people, more beds set up in the altar room and filling the hallway as well as large iron suits of armor line the corridor leading to the southeast door and stair well to the second floor. Melythai looks around the busy dining hall “Aly! Aly you in here?”

She instinctively turns rightward to see her brother before his first word is muttered “That’s Captain to you.”

“Are you being serious?”

His face as stern as ever but a smile slowly breaks.

“You can’t joke like that because you do take yourself that seriously.”

He clicks his tongue “No I do not.”

Melythai looks about the room “Mikhail, come here.”

A young recruit shuffles over “Does the Captain take himself too seriously?”

Mikhail stays silent, eyes wide like a doe “Um…”

Almeric steps up tilting his head to catch the young man’s eye-line “I order you to tell me if I take myself too seriously.”

He gulps and looks away from the captain anxiously picking at his armor “This is a serious job, I respect you holding to your responsibilities and leading these men, I thank you…”

The Captain turns to his sister “You were right.”

Mikhail looks up stepping nearer the Captain “Sorry sir?”

“You thinking I was actually ordering you is enough to agree with Mely, I’ll try to relax.”

He looks back to Melythai “This was a preamble, I knew the Templars wouldn’t let this go.”

Melythai’s lip curls, her forehead tightens “It wasn’t the Templars, they would never, it’s against their oath.”

“We saw the ships, the flags, it was their steam ship, it was them”

She turns with disbelief, nostrils flaring then stomps back around to her brother “No, the Templars are honorable, they would never randomly fire upon civilians in the night. The revolution ended because they understand the deaths of innocents is not worth a larger empire.”

Almeric raises his hand to calm her “No, we beat them because their king is a fool and has lost nearly every colony in his reign.”

She smacks his hand away “King Iesefar is one of the greatest of Stathan in all time, he respects our freedoms and choices rather than forcing us under his rule.”

The Captain lifts his chin looking down to his sister “And he is running the empire into the ground, sorry but how is that great leadership?”

“Giving birth to nine new nations to grow and prosper as allies, you know the Templars would never attack like that, you’re just pissy because they ended your service when the revolution began.”

The two step up to one another, a loud bang silences the hall, marching through the doors are four armed men bearing the symbol of a silver plated bull. Behind them are two well dressed men, one bearing the same sigil patched on his surcoat the other with shadow wisped bat wings outstretched from the center slit and behind him four more armed guards with the same symbol. The Captain steps forward grasping the elbow of the first nobleman shaking “Lord Avi.”

He steps to the other following up with another shake “Lord Moore.”

“How may I serve?”

Lord Avi looks over to Melythai nodding before back to her brother “As I am sure you know this was no Templar attack, from my towers my men saw ogres manning the ship.”

Melythai holds back a smirk watching her brother’s ear waiting for him to turn back, he stays forward holding his chin high.

“My wife, Lady Moore, her personal guard Holden claims to have seen the ogres as well. We also received a hawk from Bara; they were struck with a much more devastating assault but heard our bells and were more prepared. They too saw the gang of ogres aboard flying false flags of our Templar allies.”

Almeric sighs heavily turning his head just enough to eye Melythai’s smug expression then back to the Lord Avi 

“My keep also received a message from Captain Petyr Cavill. He has seen Nikolai Astrachi, the barge is in sight trading slaves, and he has requested assistance to take him down come dawn.”

Almeric scratches the stubble on his chin then bites his thumb knuckle turning to his sister “A joint operation you say?”

“Yes Captain, the Templars have always been kind to me and Captain Cavill is a personal friend of mine, I was hoping we could rebuild the bonds broken after the revolution.”

Captain Kane steps to an empty chair at the table frustratedly scratching his neck and chin regretting shaving for his promotion ceremony, he turns focus back to Lord Avi “I need ships protecting the bay, we cannot risk another surprise attack.”

Avi’s expression remains stern but pleased “You will aid the Templars?”

Almeric turns his focus to Melythai “I will, and my sister will lead.”

Lord Avi looks back uncertain to Lord Moore then back to the Captain “Sir I implore you to lead, you trained with the Templars and I believe it would do well for you and Captain Cavill to speak.”

Kane turns his left side to Lord Avi and Moore, he unbuttons and parts his surcoat lifting his chainmail displaying the bloody wrapping over the glass wound “I was stabbed by a robber earlier in the evening, the clerics requested I remain here for the night, my sister is qualified and she would speak well for me.”

He smiles at her and leans in “You’re welcome.”

She steps forward giving him a hug “Thank you.”

The two turn to Lord Avi and Lord Moore “The city does not have a proper navy, how many ships will you grant my sister to aid Captain Cavill?”

“I can give her a dozen, the others can stay to guard the north bay.”

Melythai steps forward, her face focused and prepared, Almeric smiles to see his sister takes her command with the same vigor he does “Thank you my lord, and House Moore?”

“I can have half in the south bay the others patrol the coast, unless you believe they’ll be needed for Nikolai’s barge?”

Her head turns to her brother for direction but snaps to “Just the barge?” The two lords nods, she pauses for a moment “A dozen should suffice then.”

The doors bangs open again “Mely!” pushing two Moore guards aside is Colburn; the others quickly turn and pull his arms behind his back.

“Wait! He’s one of mine!” The Moore guards let him go.

“Sergeant Colburn, what do you need?”

He steps forward, his eyes drifting to Melythai a smile breaking through his voice drifting “Mely.”

All the men watch him beaming, Colburn’s rosy cheeks and shining eyes, Melythai’s eyes scan all those on her uncomfortably; she gulps then opens her mouth to speak but nothing follows. Colburn checks her eye line around the room and steps back “Oh no, uh, no, no, the Lieutenant requested me to uh… Hutchins and Leeworth, we uh, um.”

Almeric steps between the two reaching to shake Lord Avi’s hand then over to Lord Moore “It was good of you to come, I hope all will be sorted, I’m sure my sister will do an incredible job with the fleet.”

The lords follow his gesture making their way out the north door, Almeric looks to his sister “Good luck” then over to Colburn, he motions to his waste “I’m going to have this cleaned again”

He pauses beside Colburn before making his leave, leaning in with a light hand on his pauldrons he sighs “That…” he bites his tongue searching for the words, nothing good comes, the silence drags on nearly as long as the awkwardness upon James’s entrance. Kane purses his lips and pats Colburn’s shoulder and walks away.

Melythai holds her blink, rubbing the crinkle of her nose; annoyed she looks onward “Thanks for that.”

James cringes itching the nape of his neck looking about the hall, onlookers still chortling and grinning like children in the park.

“How’s your nose?” Mely provides a lopsided grin, her eyes pulling his back.

“Hurts only a whole lot more than everything else.”

They step closer to one another, the grin spreading “Your ass still hurt?”

“Not as much as my feet, and my back, arm’s pretty tense too.”

“You complain a lot.”

He steps forward again regaining his confidence “Damn right I do, father said it’s what I was best at, said he’d give me a reason to complain, thought I’d shut up but I just whined twice as much.”

She chuckles, a smile plasters across her face but it quickly drifts “You have news?”

“Yes, Hutch and Leeworth are watching Rha, you still want to speak with him?”

She clenches her jaw “I can’t, not tonight. Will you see he is safe.”

Colburn groans and rocks back “If your brother finds out…”

“Don’t let him, take him out of the city, to Athertus.”

Befuddled he rocks forward “I can’t.”

“You can.”

He continues to stammer “But my post, my rounds.”

She hardily places her hand on his shoulder pauldron like Almeric does and pulls his focus back to hers “I am your Lieutenant, I order you to safely escort Rha to Athertus.”

His eyes gloss again watching the flicker of torchlight in her own “Yes ma’am.”

Colburn nods stepping back then awkwardly nods again unsure if she saw the first, she smiles, “I’ll be gone anyways, without me there’s no reason to be awkward so my brother will forget you even exist.”

He begins to apologize but is cut by her soft whisper and look to the door “Just go.”


End file.
